


lost

by shakethatcas



Series: Terushima Week [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunk Sex, M/M, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Angst, sad filth, that s what cas said this is lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:06:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakethatcas/pseuds/shakethatcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"I know I'll fall in love with you, baby<br/><strike>And that's not what I wanna do</strike><br/>I know I'll fall in love with you, baby<br/><b>And that's just what I'll do</b>"</p>
</blockquote><p>(<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RFBtVFL524">Cry Baby - The Neighbourhood</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost

**Author's Note:**

> For [Terushima Week](http://terushimaweek.tumblr.com/), Day 2 - College/University AU ~~or Responsibilities~~
> 
> I want to thank [Cas](http://shakethatcas.tumblr.com/) from the bottom of my heart for helping me edit this. Your Mountain Dew-induced suggestions and additions for this were absolutely magnificent and greatly appreciated, really :')

Kuroo turns his head from the bright screen when he hears the door being unlocked and pushed open. There’s a loud thump, the distinctive sound of someone crashing on the floor, and Kuroo knows Terushima is back home from yet another one of those nights of “partying hard,” as he calls them. He pauses his game and sighs, defeated, the sound loud in the relative silence of their shared dorm. He checks the clock on the lower part of the screen and sighs again. It’s late.

Slowly, he gets up from the couch and pads towards the entryway, ready to find whatever is there and deal with it promptly. What he finds isn’t too good, but it isn’t worse than some other times Kuroo can remember—not without cringing.

Terushima is giggling—more like wheezing, actually—with his cheek pressed down against the carpet. His clothes and hair are a mess, and Kuroo sees a suspicious-looking liquid (is it, really?) smudged all over his face and hands, already drying on his skin. Kuroo sighs yet again.

“What the hell, Terushima. Where could you have possibly gone to end up like this?” Kuroo murmurs as he lifts Terushima up, throwing one of Terushima’s arms over his shoulders and snaking one of his own under his armpits.

“Mmm, you’ll never believe it,” Terushima slurs, the words thick on his tongue and his breath warm in Kuroo’s ear. “It was. Fucking great.”

Kuroo hums in response. He knows Terushima doesn’t have all of his mind for himself at the moment, which makes him unable to think and respond coherently. Kuroo just needs to voice his concern, even if Terushima can’t grasp it.

Somehow they make it to the bathroom, Kuroo half-dragging Terushima beside him. Sitting the boy down over the closed lid of the toilet he proceeds to take off his soiled shirt. Terushima barely manages to lift up his arms so that Kuroo can slip the fabric off of his shoulders. Kuroo winces at the purple marks blossoming all over Terushima’s neck, chest, and abdomen; he looks away a heavy feeling surfacing in his chest.

“I’ll put you under the shower. Try to scrub yourself—or something...” Kuroo says, but after looking at Terushima’s unfocused eyes he knows it’s probably not going to happen. “At least wash your hair and face. I’ll be outside if anything happens, but _please_ don’t fall asleep in there.”

Terushima nods, a drunk smile on his lips as he lets his head bob up and down. Kuroo takes that as enough of an answer and as permission to take off Terushima’s pants and put him under (drag him over to) the shower. Kuroo turns away from the shower, making his way towards the door, and gives Terushima the privacy he needs to finish stripping by himself.

“Always so kind, Kuroo…” Terushima whispers, barely audible over the sound of the water streaming down on him.

Kuroo’s teeth are slightly clenched when he closes the bathroom door.

✧ ✧ ✧

Twenty minutes later Terushima is almost fully dried, other than his hair being damp, and wearing the pair of boxers Kuroo threw at him from the cracked door. The shower seems to have only sobered him up about twenty percent,and Kuroo wonders just how he managed to put on the garment without crashing down to the floor. He shrugs, one shoulder resting against the door frame while he inspects his nails as Terushima finally manages to hang his Pikachu towel on the shower railing, the one Kuroo refuses to admit is cute.

“You ready yet?” Kuroo lightly taps the floor with his foot without even realizing it.

“Hang on a sec,” Terushima says. He stumbles over to the mirror hung above the sink, threads his fingers through the hair on the top of his head, and winks at his reflection. Kuroo rolls his eyes so hard he feels they might get stuck in the back of their sockets. “Yup. Ready.”

Kuroo pushes himself away from the door frame and offers his shoulder to Terushima.

“Wanna give me a piggyback ride?”

“Fuck that,” Kuroo grumbles, and sees Terushima’s pout from the corner of his eye when Terushima finally puts his arm back around Kuroo’s shoulders.

Kuroo doesn’t bother turning the light on when they walk into Terushima’s room. He just half-holds Terushima mostly upright until they reach his—unmade—bed, and carefully lays him down atop the sheets.

“Alright,” Kuroo whispers, “good night.” He’s tired now. He’s going to go shut the TV off and get some sleep. Maybe if he wakes up early enough tomorrow he’ll be able to give his notes one last read through before his exam starts.

Before Kuroo can even make a step he feels a sudden warmth. He looks down at his hand to find Terushima’s fingers lazily curled around his wrist. Kuroo sets his jaw, and slowly tries to pull away from Terushima’s weak grip.

“Kuroo…” Terushima’s voice is a mere whisper. He looks up at Kuroo with glimmering eyes, cheek pressed against his pillow, bottom lip pulled out almost innocently.

Kuroo gulps, “What.” It’s not really a question. He knows what the answer to it is, but he’s afraid of what it entails.

“Stay…” Terushima tugs softly at Kuroo’s hand, bringing him closer to the bed as the fingers of his other hand ghost over the skin just above Kuroo’s waistband.

“Terushima,” Kuroo murmurs, and the name comes out difficulty through the tightness in his throat. “You’re not thinking clearly right n-now. You should—sleep.” He can’t deny the fact that he wants to stay, that he wants to accept Terushima’s invitation whether he’s drunk or not. He hides it though. He forces out the words that he _should_ say and not the ones that he _wants_ to say, because that’s probably what’s best for both of them 

He tries to peel Terushima’s hands off him, but the guy is like an octopus…drawing its victim mercilessly to their demise.

Lifting himself on an elbow, Terushima draws his hand up and under Kuroo’s shirt. Drunk fingers awkwardly trace the lines of Kuroo’s muscles, leaving a heated pattern everywhere they go. Kuroo shivers and hisses at the sweet touch. His own hands are balled into tight, shaking fists at his sides.

_He wants to resist._

“Please…” Terushima mouths at Kuroo’s hipbone, leading Kuroo’s hand to his head and Kuroo can’t help but let his fingers curl into Terushima’s damp hair.

Terushima doesn’t understand. Doesn’t understand how hard Kuroo fights this whenever it happens. Doesn’t understand how much this hurts him every time he gives in. Doesn’t understand how much _this_ implies to Kuroo.

Kuroo curses under his breath. His voice is broken as he whispers, “Okay, alright.” He gulps down the lump in his throat. “I’ll stay.”

With his heartbeat hammering into his ears, Kuroo presses a knee onto Terushima’s bed. He crawls on top of him, easily flipping him over on his back and capturing his already bruised neck with his lips. Those are the only ‘kisses’ he knows Terushima will allow him to have. Terushima moans a soft laugh underneath him with his head thrown back into the pillow, and Kuroo whines into his neck, grinding against him. He wishes this would be happening in a different context. A context where—

Kuroo’s hand fumbles blindly in the drawer of Terushima’s nightstand, quickly finding the textures his fingers are looking for—hard plastic and thin foil. He puts the items beside Terushima’s head on the pillow, and moves his hands down to strip Terushima of the single layer covering him up.

Sitting back on his heels between Terushima’s knees, Kuroo tries—key word, tries—not to admire the stunning beauty of Terushima’s body sprawled so beautifully for him. He knows he shouldn’t. He he knows he should keep his eyes off of him for the sake of not making memories about this, but he can’t help it and it _hurts_.

Terushima frowns at him, groaning deep in his throat as he throws the bottle sitting beside his head in Kuroo’s direction. The motion shakes Kuroo out of his painful reverie, and he catches the item at the last moment. He stays still for a second.

Kuroo shakes his head and laughs, trying to keep up the Good Mood. (Though it certainly doesn’t feel that good to him... Not like this.) It sounds terribly fake and he hopes Terushima is too drunk to pick up the sadness in his voice. Terushima’s wide grin answers that question for him.

Kuroo makes quick work on the cap of the bottle and soon his fingers are pressing into Terushima as he hovers over him once more, lips sealed to the skin underneath Terushima’s jaw. He’s more than surprised when he finds almost no resistance against the gentle push of his careful fingers.

“Terushima.” Kuroo pulls his face away from his neck, and Terushima groans again. “What did you do tonight?”

Terushima rolls his eyes at Kuroo’s deep frown. “It was a quick thing. And it was terrible, by the way.”

Kuroo shuts his eyes and exhales loudly. He wishes he wasn’t leaning on his only free elbow so he could pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Terushima’s breath brushes Kuroo’s cheeks and Kuroo looks down at him to find him chuckling.

“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you.”

“Oh, come on, Kuroo…” Terushima says softly, drawing his fingers down Kuroo’s bicep. Kuroo feels a tremor course up his spine at the soft touch. He huffs and sets his jaw, throwing the most serious gaze he can muster down at Terushima. Terushima’s smile dies down and he squirms a little. “The guy used protection, alright. We might have both been drunk but I made sure to put a condom on his dick before he put it up my ass.”

Kuroo cringes at the wording and Terushima laughs again at the face he makes. Terushima wraps his arms around Kuroo’s neck and draws him close until their noses touch and their breaths mingle. Time feels like it has stopped as they dive into each other’s eyes.

“No one makes it feel as good as you do.” Terushima’s voice is no louder than a whisper.

Kuroo’s heart stills in his chest and sputters painfully as it restarts. At first he thinks he heard him wrong, but the words hang heavy above them as Kuroo tries to convince himself that it’s not what Terushima actually said. He can’t.

 _He’s… drunk,_ Kuroo finally thinks to himself. _He’s probably just bluffing…_

As much as Kuroo tells himself that it’s just a joke, that Terushima probably doesn’t mean it… he wants to believe it. He wants to believe that it’s how Terushima truly feels. He wants to be the only one—

Soon Kuroo feels warmth pool between his legs and blinks, refocusing his gaze to the reality around him. Underneath him Terushima smooths his hand over the front of Kuroo’s jeans, stroking him teasingly slowly with a playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Come on,” says Terushima, voice high and pleading.

Kuroo can’t deny that he wants this too.

Terushima helps him slide his pants and boxers down his thighs, and Kuroo finishes the work by kicking them off his feet. With unsteady, trembling hands Kuroo rips the foil package open and rolls the condom down over his erection. Terushima watches him ready himself with a small laugh bubbling in his throat. “Are you shaking because you’re excited or because you’re nervous?” he asks, and he actually looks—dangerously—curious about the answer. Kuroo only clicks his tongue in reply.

Terushima grabs the lube and pours a generous amount of it on his fingers. He reaches down for Kuroo before Kuroo can even register what he’s doing. Kuroo groans, a shiver coursing down his spine as he buries his face into Terushima’s neck and softly rocks his hips into his touch.

“That’s more like it,” Terushima whispers, warm breath moving softly past Kuroo’s ear, fingers smooth over his back. “Please, Kuroo. I’ve waited all night for this.”

There’s no way that Kuroo can act like those words don’t affect him. He’s losing his mind already, and Terushima’s words are like the rope leading him into the darkness.

Kuroo blindly guides himself to Terushima’s entrance and Terushima spreads his thighs farther apart for him, sucks him in almost greedily when he pushes inside. Kuroo gasps, eyes closed and forehead pressed to Terushima’s shoulder as he tries to get used to the overwhelming sensation of being inside him, of feeling this perfect warmth and pressure around him, of feeling every touch and every breath falling on his skin. Kuroo wonders if he could die of this feeling.

Soft moans spill from Terushima’s lips and into Kuroo’s hair, just beside his ear. Terushima trembles slightly underneath him, trying to bring him closer, pressing their bodies flush against each other with his arms wrapped tightly around Kuroo’s neck and his heels digging into Kuroo’s lower back. Kuroo can’t help but allow himself to be embraced and to embrace Terushima as well, because that’s probably all he’ll ever—

Kuroo’s hand makes its way down Terushima’s chest and over his stomach, pausing to feel each dip and curve of his muscles and raising goosebumps on the exposed skin in its wake. His palm settles over Terushima’s hip, keeping him in place as he slides out—and slowly pushes back inside. Kuroo’s breath catches in his throat at the sensation and he almost misses the way Terushima’s fingers curl into his hair, almost misses the whimper that makes it past

Terushima’s trembling lips. He continues to rock his hips back and forth at a tantalizing pace, his other hand clutching Terushima’s shoulder for dear life.

It’s probably a weird sort of jealousy that rises in his chest then, one that will make Kuroo feel disgusted by himself when he remembers about it later… but it feels _good_ in that moment. It feels good to let his lips kiss purple marks over Terushima’s neck and collarbone, to match and even compete against the ones Terushima already had on him when he stepped into their dorm. It feels good to think about those new marks as signs that would indicate _‘mine and no one else’s’_ to anyone who looked at Terushima the next day, the week after—if only Kuroo’s feelings were known to Terushima.

Terushima whines and writhes underneath Kuroo, bottom lip caught between his teeth and brows furrowed deeply—the image of pure, raw pleasure. He releases one of his hands from around Kuroo’s neck and slides it between their bodies. Shaky fingers lightly stroke the place where Kuroo’s skin slides against his own, the touch eliciting low moans from both of them, before he finally grasps himself. Kuroo holds him tighter then, rising the cadence of his thrusts as he feels warmth coiling tighter in his belly.

“Kuroo,” A breathless gasp, and then… “Kuroo!” A sharp cry.

Terushima spills into his own hand, hips jerking up on auto-pilot to meet Kuroo’s halfway, thighs warm and tight around Kuroo’s sides. He tugs at Kuroo’s hair as he whines, head pressed back against the pillow and chest pressed tightly against Kuroo’s as it heaves. Then he clenches down on Kuroo— _hard_ —and tips him over the edge as well.

Kuroo nearly sobs into Terushima’s neck, eyes shut tightly as he pushes past his own limit and thrusts once, twice… a third time into Terushima’s warmth before coming to a halt, grip tight on his hip. It’s way too tight and he knows it’ll probably leave a nasty bruise, but he doesn’t care—doesn’t _want_ to care.

He does care though.

A little part of him hopes that a lasting mark will bloom on Terushima’s smooth skin. A mark showing just how _well_ Kuroo fucks him, just like Terushima admitted. Other people leave hickeys along Terushima’s neck, chest, and sometimes along his thighs—Kuroo knows this because sometimes they peek out from under his shorts. Kuroo also knows that he’s the only one that gets the satisfaction of leaving his _fingerprints_ against Terushima’s skin, a reminder of exactly where Kuroo’s hands gripped him hard, pleasure burning so bright that he forgot about his own strength.

Lost in thought, it takes Kuroo a moment to realize that he’s collapsed atop Terushima. It’s the feeling of Terushima’s hands splayed over his shoulder blades tracing soothing circles over Kuroo’s sweat-slicked skin that brings him back to reality. Kuroo wordlessly pulls away from him, tipping his head to the side so that Terushima doesn’t catch whatever expression he has on his face.

“Came pretty hard, huh?” Kuroo nods, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Me too. I told you, no one makes it f—”

“Yeah.” Kuroo throws the condom into the trash bin beside Terushima’s bed. He briefly wonders if Terushima will remember anything upon the sight of it next time he takes out his trash. He quickly shakes the thought off his mind.

Kuroo finds his boxers sitting at the foot of the bed and puts them on. He stands up with his pants in hand, the springs of the mattress creaking softly once his weight is off them. He doesn’t look back. “Just—sleep. Alright?”

Terushima chuckles behind him, oblivious. “Okay.”

Kuroo hears the soft, distinct sound of tissues being pulled out of their box as he makes his way to the door.

“Night, Kuroo.”

Kuroo’s hand tightens around the door handle. “…Good night” he manages through gritted teeth. He steps out and closes the door behind him.

He doesn’t cry until he’s well tucked inside his covers. After taking a long shower, shutting off the TV, and getting something to eat from the kitchen. Tears of anger and distress stream down his trembling cheeks, chest rising and falling erratically as he tries to forget and fall asleep.

He’s a coward and he knows it. He’s disgusting and he knows it. He’s completely, utterly lost in love with Terushima and he knows it.

✧ ✧ ✧

The next morning, if Terushima remembers anything about the night before he doesn’t mention it. Kuroo catches a glimpse of the dark marks on Terushima’s neck, which Terushima hasn’t even bothered to cover, and the sight of it makes Kuroo’s gut twist. Kuroo doesn’t even want to think about the feeling that’s blooming deep within him and quickly moves his gaze back down to his mug.

Terushima doesn’t seem to notice anything and beams at Kuroo, telling him that he looks a little tired. Kuroo chuckles softly behind his steaming cup and agrees to that while Terushima drinks the cup of coffee Kuroo has made for him, just the way Terushima likes. Finally, once they’ve finished readying themselves, they both leave for their morning classes.

Everything plays out just like all the other times _it_ has happened.

And Kuroo doesn’t do anything to stop the movie from repeating itself over and over.


End file.
